Chapter Sixty-Two: Defeating the Enemy with a Single Move

Faced with Song Yi’s provocation, Chu Han couldn’t even be bothered to respond. The truth of their abilities would only be revealed in the clash that followed, and besides, he hadn’t even used his full strength in the first round. If he did, that man would either be dead or crippled.

“The match begins.”

With the host’s announcement, Song Yi sprang into action. He charged forward, wielding a longsword cloaked in a purple flame—visually striking, but not particularly practical.

Chu Han shifted his body slightly, dodging the attack, then drove his right fist toward Song Yi’s ribs. He didn’t use any true energy, but the punch was blindingly swift. Startled, Song Yi hurriedly leapt aside to evade the blow.

Though Chu Han’s fist didn’t land, the gust from his strike tore Song Yi’s clothes, a testament to the immense force behind it. The jeering Song Yi, upon witnessing Chu Han’s display, no longer dared to underestimate him.

“Heh, if you want to play, I’ll play with you properly. Let’s see how many of my moves you can handle.”

Chu Han tilted his head, emitting an unsettling clicking sound that sent chills down the spine, a mocking smile curling at his lips. Since the opponent was hailed as a genius, his strength should be considerable—this was an opportunity for a good fight. It had been some time since Chu Han had met a worthy adversary.

Seeing Chu Han’s demeanor, Song Yi’s expression darkened. He realized he’d encountered a formidable opponent. Yet, confident in his own skills, he didn’t believe he would lose—though a bitter struggle was inevitable.

When Song Yi launched his attack, Chu Han had already discerned his cultivation—third stage of the Dao Palace Realm. For someone his age, it was impressive, though still a shade short of true genius.

Blue lightning crackled around Chu Han, its crackling never ceasing, while purple flames danced around Song Yi. Blue and purple intertwined, making the scene intense. The audience held their breath, anticipating a spectacular duel.

“Purple Flame Slash!”

Song Yi shouted, vanishing from sight, and reappeared before Chu Han. His sword flashed five times in a heartbeat, each stroke wreathed in violet fire. The oppressive force left the weaker spectators uneasy.

“Looks like Song Yi is serious—using his trump card so quickly. He must be aiming for a swift victory. What a pity; that Chu Han fellow is strong, but had the misfortune to face Song Yi.”

Meanwhile, deep within Samsara Valley, an elder witnessing the scene could only shake his head, his gaze filled with pity for Chu Han.

“Heh, this is what he deserves. Who told him to insult Samsara Valley? I want to see how he’ll answer to the Valley once he loses,” another elder beside him snorted coldly. He was one of the two old men Chu Han had met on the street earlier, and he was well aware of Chu Han’s arrogance, which angered him deeply.

Seeing Song Yi unleash his ultimate move, he believed Chu Han’s defeat was certain. When that happened, Chu Han would have to account for himself to Samsara Valley; even if they killed him, it would be justified.

But would Chu Han give him that chance? The answer was no. Song Yi’s attack kicked up a cloud of dust, obscuring the fight from the audience. Soon, Song Yi emerged, fixing Chu Han with a cold stare.

As the dust settled, everyone thought Song Yi had won—his move had been overwhelming. Yet Chu Han stood untouched where he’d been, not even his clothing disturbed, as if he hadn’t endured the assault at all.

The crowd erupted in an uproar. He had taken Song Yi’s ultimate move head-on and emerged unscathed, as if nothing had happened. Song Yi himself was dumbfounded; that was his most powerful technique, the one he’d once used to single-handedly slay a first-rank magical beast, yet it hadn’t so much as scratched Chu Han.

“Not bad, but your strike lacked force—neither painful nor itchy. Since you’ve shown your hand, I won’t hold back either. Try this—Thunder Bear.”

With a cold snort, Chu Han clenched his right fist, lifting it as all the lightning gathered around his hand. Song Yi, sensing grave danger, gripped his weapon tightly, eyes fixed unblinking on Chu Han.

In that instant, the lightning before Chu Han coalesced into the form of a massive wild bear, roaring thunderously. The bear was entirely formed of lightning, yet so lifelike that the audience cried out in shock.

Chu Han bellowed, and the bear charged at Song Yi with astonishing speed. Before Song Yi could react, the bear was upon him.

With no time to evade, Song Yi gritted his teeth and raised his sword, bracing to withstand the blow. But the bear struck him squarely, and the surging lightning enveloped his body.

With a scream, Song Yi lost consciousness. His sword snapped in two, and he was hurled from the arena. Even as he landed, his body continued to twitch sporadically.

A hush fell over the scene. All had believed Chu Han doomed, yet Song Yi had been defeated without even managing to withstand a single move, gravely injured in the process—the so-called genius proved to be nothing special.

Silence gave way to thunderous applause that echoed throughout the arena. In the crowd below, Leng Ye wept tears of joy. He had believed Chu Han could win, but never expected victory to come so easily, in such overwhelming fashion.

“Kid, you went too far! Even if Song Yi recovers, he’ll likely never advance again. Has no one taught you to leave room for others, so you can meet again in the future?”

A figure appeared in the arena, checked Song Yi’s condition, and, shocked by what he found, stood up and bellowed at Chu Han.

“Heh, swords and blades have no eyes. Since he entered this competition, he should have considered all possible consequences. Did he show mercy in his last attack? If everyone from Samsara Valley can dish out blows but can’t take them, then you’re simply tyrannical.”

Chu Han snorted coldly, clearly unafraid, his tone icy.

Though the crowd was displeased at the Samsara Valley expert’s intervention, no one dared speak up. Samsara Valley had always been domineering, and their power silenced opposition.

Moreover, this was the Valley’s Second Elder—a formidable presence even within their ranks, notorious for his volatile temper. No one dared provoke him.

“Fine, boy, you’re all talk. I don’t care for your excuses. You injured a member of Samsara Valley—today, you won’t leave here alive. Prepare to die!”

Though the Second Elder knew that intervening now would damage Samsara Valley’s reputation, he no longer cared. Chu Han’s display unnerved him; such a threat had to be eliminated before it could endanger the Valley.

He raised his right hand and lunged forward, palm aimed at Chu Han’s head, true energy condensed in his strike. Such a blow could shatter stone—those faint of heart among the crowd could not bear to watch.